Pas De Roses Comme Toi
by Baguette Me Not
Summary: "Sometimes… sometimes I wonder what your name really is."


_What's in a name?_

_That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweetￂﾠ_

_-William Shakespeare_

* * *

"Sometimes… sometimes I wonder what your name _really_ is."

Ladybug almost did a spit take.

Patrol was a common routine for the pair of them now, Ladybug having set up the first ones to deal with the Owl (which had admittedly turned out to be a disaster—but hey, things were going good for him now) and well, it just caught on. True, there wasn't specifically any need for them to do so—they were needed for Akumas and the occasional rampaging bus—yet, there was something comforting to it all, knowing that Paris would be at ease whilst two superheroes watched over them in the shadows of the night. Though another part of Ladybug knew, guiltily, that the real reason behind it all may have been to spend time by the side of her partner. Despite his incessant need for puns and flirtatious attitude, this boy understood her. Understood the weight and importance behind protecting their Miraculouses from Hawkmoth like no other.

It was during these patrols in which she would open up about these feelings. At least, a little. She didn't have to be some spotted heroine that people of all ages would look up to, didn't have to set an example and put up a courageous front.

She was just her.

Discussion wasn't limited to this, of course. There had been countless nights of would you rather or how many words with 'cat' in them could they find (spoiler alert: she tended to win those.)

And if there was one thing she enjoyed about patrolling the most, it was that Chat tended to avoid prying about her identity (he saved all those questions for their battles—a terribly inconvenient time if you asked her.)

At least, not until today.

"Chat," She sighed, screwing back up the lid to her hot chocolate she'd brought with her, just in case he said something else that almost made her drop it. "You know we have to keep our identities a secret."

"I know, I know," He responded, sounding truly saddened by the fact. It's not as if she could blame him, however, as she knew how desperate he was about discovering her identity. "I'm not asking to know what your name really is, though-" He gave her a sideways grin. "If you're offering up now…"

"You can hold your tongue on that one."

"Right, saw that one coming." His grin began to dim a little, taking on the sombre attitude from before. "It's just that even if we can't find out each other's names, it doesn't stop me from wondering, you know? Because here I am with a, heh, _miraculous_ partner at my side—one who I trust with my life—and yet I don't even know what your own name is."

She'd be lying if she'd said she hadn't felt deeply touched by that, her heart becoming heavy, as if it had been turned to lead. Knowing that _she _was the cause of his sadness and _she _made him feel this way, it was almost enough to make her detransform on the spot.

But she didn't. Couldn't. It would be like throwing everything Tikki had taught her out of the window. She had a family to protect. Friends to keep safe. It wasn't as if she couldn't trust Chat (she did, of course, from the bottom of her heart), it was what could happen if words slipped from his mouth and Hawkmoth found out. Be it from the influence of Hawkmoth's Akuma or otherwise. It was simply a factor she couldn't afford to risk.

That wasn't to say that she, herself, wasn't intrigued. Afterall, the thought did occasionally wander to the forefront of her brain, giving her fictitious ideas on what would happen if they did know who each other were. _Would he hang out with her afterschool at the bakery? Would he meet her parents? Her friends? Would she meet his?_

Though, perhaps not. From the small tidbits he'd shared with her, his parents didn't seem to be up for the award of being the most attentive out there.

That's if he had any at all.

"... If think I know what you mean," She said at last, slowly, choosing her words with utmost care. "I must admit, I _am _curious... However-" Ladybug paused and reached towards his hand, lacing it with her own. Even without it being skin, his black clad glove was warm to the touch, mirroring the warmth that bubbled in her chest at the gesture she'd just initiated.

"What _I do_ know is that you're Chat Noir, my loyal partner, my best friend. You're the guy who loves cat puns to no end, your favourite colour is blue, and I know that you sneeze at even just the sight of a feather, or how your favourite place to get pastries is the Dupain-Cheng's, you love it when I show you cat memes, that you talk to akumatised victims not out of duty but _because you have a big heart _and—" She blinked, lowering her hand that had been counting her listed off points in favour of staring at the rather startling expression that had found its way onto her partner. "Mon Dieu, _are you crying_?"

"What?" Sniffle. "Oh." With his free hand, he reached up towards his eyes, belatedly realising that a cascade of shimmering tears were flowing onto his mask. He wiped them away as best as he could using his arm, clawed hands going near his eye sockets being out of the question. "Guess I am," He concluded though, despite the tears, he was smiling. It wasn't the wide grin she usually saw, the one he wore after having made a pun he thought to be particularly hilarious (even if she couldn't quite agree), neither was it the one he used after a cheesy pickup line. It was a soft one, one that felt so heartfelt and sincere that she couldn't help but smile along with him.

Oddly enough, it reminded her of a certain someone else.

(Nope, nope. Not going there.)

"I don't need to know your name to know my partner," She continued, when the last remnants of his tears had been wiped up. "You could be called Gérald, or Félix, Louis, Chad, Marc, Pierre or-" Ladybug laughed. "Even Adrien! At the forefront of it all, you're still the same person to me."

She increased her grip on his hand, as much as a reassurance of the fact to him as it was to her. "I'm not having you forget that, okay?"

Chat stared at her a moment, his eyes a mixture of so many emotions she could have taken them all and had them blended into the world's most complicated smoothie. _The cat really had got his tongue_ she humoured before inwardly chiding herself. He was becoming a bad influence on her for sure.

"Thanks My Lady." The corner of his mouth twitched upward. "Though the same applies to you too. I wouldn't even mind if you were called _Chloé_."

And just like that, the spell was broken. She gagged and let go of his hand (which he pouted at, though she didn't dwell on) and playfully smacked him. "Eww, no. Absolutely not. I can tell you without a doubt that my name is not and will never be _Chloé_."

"_Paw_sitive?"

"Do I even look like a Chloé to you?"

"Why, do I look like a Gérald to you?" He retorted, eyes twinkling with amusement at her complete and utter disgust. _The traitor. _To think she had been fueling his ego mere moments before.

"It was just an example!" Ladybug protested, crossing her arms. "I would have liked to see you try better!"

"Well, let's see. We've got—"

"Okay, nope!" She silenced him before he could even make a start. She would rather not sit waiting to have him list out the name of every single Parisian, thank you very much. And, on the off chance that he did mention her own name, she doubted she'd be able to keep a straight face. "Not listening to this."

"But Bug—"

"Taking back the thermoses!"

"Noooo! My hot chocolate!"

Ladybug cast him a playful smile as she grabbed the pair of thermoses and, with a flick of her wrist, sent herself flying across the rooftops of Paris on her trusty yo-yo. Adrenaline coursed through her yet again, the thrill of soaring at high speed over buildings—in which one would pay ever so much to see—engulfing her and leaving her skin tingling. She risked a swift glance back at Chat, still perched atop the roof, head tilted upward in her direction.

She'd definitely meant what she had said to him earlier. As overwhelming the curiosity was that they both held for each other's name (in which maybe, just maybe one day when this all was over she would find out—the very thought of which gave her goosebumps) she knew that for now, above all else, he was her partner.

Because, in the end? What _really_ was in a name?

(Everything.)

* * *

AN: Very, very loosely inspired by  /works/8529178 with the idea that these two would get curious as to what their partner's name was.

This is pretty much just me taking a break from the other Miraculous fics I've been writing (which takes a while considering I'm a slow typer XD) but hopefully I'll manage to finish them sometime this year. Hopefully.

And for those who are curious, the title (is meant to) say 'no roses like you'.

Thanks you so much for reading!


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